


If I Hadn't Blown The Whole Thing Years Ago...

by Azure_Lynx



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Multi, Murray's still an insufferable man, Nancy's Still Investigating, Sharing a Bed, Stoncy Week 2020, The more things change the more they stay the same, the gang gets back together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_Lynx/pseuds/Azure_Lynx
Summary: Murray Bauman's levels of helpful and insufferable were constantly competing to be higher. Nancy's sick of his shit, but she doesn't know what other choice she has.And of course he only has one guest bed.
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington, Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 124





	If I Hadn't Blown The Whole Thing Years Ago...

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4: ~~There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close~~ OR There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling   
> Title from Hey Jealousy by the Gin Blossoms  
> Some details inspired by pterawaters' Mr. Sandman series, which I highly recommend.

When Murray opened the door and saw the three of them there, Nancy was overwhelmed by the desire to slap the stupid, smug look right off of his face. 

“Nancy, Jonathan. And…” he trailed off, waiting for someone to introduce their third companion. As if Murray hadn’t been there after the battle of Starcourt. 

“Steve.” The boy in question waved awkwardly. “Hi.”

If anything, Murray just looked even more smug and delighted. “ _Steve_ ,” he repeated with relish.

Jesus christ. 

“Can we come in?” Nancy demanded impatiently, trying to abort whatever was about to happen. Get back on task.

He stepped aside. “Of course, of course, my favorite high schoolers. Come right in.”

“We’re in college now,” she snapped. It was far from the only thing that had changed from the last summer she saw him, but oh well.

“Oh, how time flies. What’s the story, sweetheart?”

He was going to lose his fucking tongue. 

Jonathan placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, taking a step forward. “Look, we need your help.” Even now, he was her steadying presence. Even after everything.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Murray laughed. 

“There are twelve women missing from UIC and nobody gives a shit because they’re black girls on scholarship,” Nancy snapped. “They were all last seen at the UIC hospital. No one is reported as released, but they’re not in the entire hospital. You don’t just lose _twelve patients_.”

That seemed to get through to him. Murray’s business face - a slightly less smug version of his normal face - slipped on as he ushered them inside. “Tell me everything.”

It was convenient Murray was hiding out on the West Side of Chicago, because this one was above Nancy’s paygrade. Her editor had explicitly forbade her pursuing the story, which of course meant she definitely needed to, but she needed somewhere to get the story out, too. She needed Murray’s contacts. Steve and Jonathan were just here because when things got crazy, it seemed the Hawkins team reunited. 

Nancy sat on his couch, off to the far right. Jonathan sat on the left and Steve sat between them, awkwardly trying not to touch either of them. 

Murray raised his eyebrows, but thankfully didn’t say anything.

So she told him. She told him how her friend Marcella had fallen ill and then just...disappeared, how Nancy had searched and searched and found other girls like Marcella, how no one seemed to notice or care, how she’d broken into the offices and found files. How she was pretty sure the doctor behind all of it was one of Brenner’s colleagues from MKUltra.

Murray nodded along. When she’d been silent for a couple minutes, he said, “But I told you to tell me everything.”

“I did.” Her brows knitted. The thought she’d hold back important details when this clearly was so important was ludicrous.

Murray gestured expansively across the couch. “You didn’t tell me what happened here. Lover’s quarrel, part two? And our good friend Steve. Do we like Steve?”

Oh, for God’s sake.

What happened was that long-distance relationships were a joke. What happened was a “Jonathan, I need to focus on school” and a “Nancy, I think I like guys.” What happened was by some unlucky happenstance, Nancy Wheeler was at university with her two ex-boyfriends, because of course Steve would get into UIC, too, and of course he’d go. What happened was she was still hopelessly in love with both of them, but there were a million reasons why something like this couldn’t work.

“Or did some reconfiguring happen since our last meeting? Something new.” She winced, which was a mistake, because he seized on the weakness immediately. “Or maybe we _wish_ there was something new?”

“I just told you about a kidnapping conspiracy and you want me to talk about my love life?” she snapped. But of course he did; one of the last things he’d said to Hopper was snarky love advice.

He snorted. “I’m just saying. I have exactly one guest bed, so maybe if you think out loud, you’ll come up with a solution.” He practically leered. “And if you use the ‘I’ll take the couch’ excuse again, that still leaves two of you in the bed. And I wonder who that’d be.”

He pushed himself up to standing. 

“No. No, no way, we’re not staying the night.” Nancy had been down this road before and she wanted nothing to do with it again. Her heart flipped looking at Jonathan, remembering that night. “Murray, this is urgent.”

“Nancy, it’s two in the morning. No one I call will be particularly happy to answer, less to listen, and not at all to help. Get some sleep; we’ll man the phones in the morning.”

The man was the bane of her existence. He also had a point. “Fine.” She should’ve known. She should’ve packed pajamas. Nothing ever got done in a reasonable time frame in this house. “I’ll take the couch.”

Both Steve and Jonathan’s eyes widened and both looked ready to protest, but there was no way she was sharing a bed with either of her ex-boyfriends. The last time she’d stayed at Murray’s, she’d made a really stupid decision, and she would not let him goad her into that again.

Murray shrugged. “Suit yourself. And remember, please, the walls are thin.”

He left them spluttering, sweeping away in his ratty robe, and Nancy wondered why she’d ever thought this was a good idea. 

Steve was the one to break the awkward silence that followed. “So...is he always like that?”

Nancy nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Huh. I really did get the better team these past two apocalypses,” he mused. It made Nancy’s heart twist for reasons she didn’t want to think about. “Can’t believe you keep coming to this guy.”

“Me neither,” Nancy groaned. “I swear this is the last time.”

“Until we need him again.” Jonathan shrugged. “It’s annoying, but he has been helpful in weirdly specific ways.” His cheeks were still dusted with color, in spite of the casual delivery of his words, and Nancy knew he was just as uncomfortable as she was.

Steve stood up abruptly, brushing nonexistent dirt off his pants. “Well! I guess we ought to let you go to bed, Nancy.”

Jonathan looked like a deer in the headlights, and she didn’t know why it took her until right this moment, but suddenly Nancy connected the dots and understood the looks he’d been giving Steve. 

Jesus. Some investigative journalist she was.

“I’ll take the floor,” he mumbled.

“Don’t be stupid. We’re mature adults, we can share a bed for a night.” Steve said it decisively, but he was looking anywhere but at Jonathan.

Did Steve know? Ex-boyfriend or not, if he was a jerk to Jonathan, Nancy would be perfectly happy to fight him.

She squashed a hysterical giggle at the fact that “Ex-Boyfriend or not” could mean either of them, and that one of her exes was in love with the other, and she was in love with both of them, and it was all one big mess.

“Yeah. Okay.” Jonathan and Steve bid her good night and awkwardly shuffled off to Murray’s spare room, leaving her alone with the ugly, lumpy couch. There were several unidentifiable stains across it. The look of it almost made her regret her choice, but it still seemed better than being in bed with one of them, so she spread her coat on the couch and laid on top of it.

After about twenty minutes of tossing, turning, and shivering, she was beginning to reconsider. God, would it kill Murray to turn on a heater? The lower gas bill couldn’t be worth this frozen hell. 

She sat up on the couch and looked around, but the spartan sitting room was devoid of any sort of blanket or afgan. She could use her coat; the trade-off for that one would be having to lay against the dirty fabric of the couch.

_“We’re mature adults,”_ Steve had said. She was standing before she realised she’d made a decision, but her stocking feet carried her down the hall to Murray’s spare room. 

She pushed open the door quietly, carefully, and nearly tripped over her own two feet when she saw Jonathan and Steve tangled up beneath the covers, Jonathan’s head on Steve’s arm, Steve’s mouth open in his quiet snores. 

The bed wasn’t particularly big. They’d obviously started out on opposite sides, based on the way the blankets were pooling. She almost backed up and turned all the way around, back to her lonely, cold couch, but she must’ve let the dim hall light in for too long, because both her boys were stirring. 

_Her Boys._ Well, she could dream. And maybe they had been, once upon a time, but everything was different now.

“Nancy?” Steve asked blearily.

She wrapped her arms around herself. “It was cold,” she began half-heartedly. “No, you know what, I’ll just -” She made an awkward backstep, not really wanting to stay, not wanting to go.

Jonathan beckoned her in. He and Steve were drawing apart, seemingly without noticing. “C’mon. There’s room for one more.”

There definitely wasn’t, but she listened and she joined them, settling in the space between them they’d made for her. Already, she was much warmer. 

“We’ll give you room,” Steve said, wiggling to allow some pocket of air between the two of them. Nancy knew for a fact that his foot was hanging off the bed. She also knew it wouldn’t last, and honestly, she’d be happy for that. 

Steve was out again in a minute and his promise of space faded as he tucked himself into her side. Jonathan reached out for her hand tentatively and she squeezed his back. 

For the first time in over a year, things felt right. It was a terrifying thought, but it also told Nancy what she needed to do. 

There would be time to talk about it in the morning. For now, they could just sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Let's give it up for "We broke up for various life reasons but I'm still in love" Stoncy! One of the best kinds.   
> Murray Bauman, insufferable bastard. I know we all like to think about what happens when he meets Steve, so here's another. And of course there was only one bed.  
> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for sticking with me on this journey.


End file.
